Those Are My Fries
by missAmberly
Summary: Sam knew that Bucky would eventually find them. He just didn't expect this.


**Notes: **I wanted to write a short, cute little fic where Bucky turns up okay and banters and is just, generally adorable. So I did. Thanks to thunderboltsortofapenny for liking the tags when I posted that picture that one time.

**Warnings: **None!

* * *

"That didn't take long-hey! Those are-" Same looked up expecting to see Steve, back from the phone booth and wearing the same miserable look he'd had for months. Instead, he was met with a grin and a killer's face. The Winter Soldier popped Sams's fry in to his mouth and winked, chewing with a smirk on his face.

"You-" Same started, hands tightening on his silverware.

"Bucky Barnes. Pleased to meet you," the man across the table held out his hand. The one that was flesh. He was clean, well dressed, hair gathered in a loose ponytail. Bucky looked normal. Almost. There was a tightness about his eyes, a guarded look that reminded Sam of a dog who'd been kicked too many times. Sam took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Sam Wilson," he smiled, wanting to give the man across from him a chance. For Steve's sake, if nothing else. Bucky seemed calm, collected. Until you looked at his eyes, which darted restlessly around the room. Looking for threats, Sam thought. The man across from him wasn't the Winter Soldier, but he was still dangerous. Bucky was dangerous.

"These are good fries," Bucky grinned, reaching out to snag another off of Sam's plate. He couldn't help but notice that Steve's plate was untouched, with all fries present and accounted for. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know. I was enjoying them. Don't suppose we could convince you to stick around and order your own plate?" Sam grated, only half-teasing. He expected Bucky to run at any minute. But he wanted Steve to see him, first. To know that Bucky was at least taking care of himself, that he wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere. Bucky laughed, the sound low and hoarse. He flashed Sam a grin, winking cheekily at him.

"But I want yours," he reached for another fry. Sam swatted at him, glaring half-heatedly and trying to keep his mouth set in a frown. He could understand why Steve wasn't giving up, now. Bucky seemed like a perfect balance to Steve's constant brooding: he was cheerful and playful, even with the haunted look in his eyes.

"Get your own, kid," Sam said it firmly, but he was grinning. Bucky snorted, shaking his head and leaning back in the seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Bucky was older than a kid. And more experienced. But it was clear he was pleased with the banter. He opened his mouth, a retort hot on his lips, ready to deliver, then froze.

"Bucky?" Steve was standing at the side of the booth, looking down at him with wide eyes. He was trembling, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Bucky turned, leaning back in to the corner of the booth and patting the seat next to him.

"Hey, Stevie. You tried any of Sam's fries?" Bucky was still grinning. There was a slight twinge of fear in his eyes, though. It let Sam know he was nervous, that he wasn't sure how Steve would take him being there, looking like he did. Steve sat slowly, staring at Bucky. Sam thought he knew how that felt, how it would feel if Riley were suddenly sitting next to him, talking and laughing like he'd never been dead.

"I-what? No. Bucky, what are you doing here?" it was soft and earnest. Like Steve was convinced Bucky wasn't real-shouldn't be real. Bucky laughed, shaking his head and swinging his arm over Steve's shoulders, squeezing him a little tighter than just friend's would've.

"Have to make sure someone takes care of you," the Winter Soldier was teasing, winking at his nemesis and giving him a look that Sam thought only existed in movies. Sam remembered his parents looking at each other that way, when he was young. He swallowed, slowly sliding out of the booth.

"I'm gonna run to the men's room. Steve, make sure that boy gets some food. And not my food, his own!" Sam tossed over his shoulder, exiting before either of them could reply. They didn't even seem to nice. Steve was fixed on Bucky's face, swallowing and nodding in response to something Bucky had said, something about needing to get his head on straight, first.

Sam could guess. It didn't take Tony Stark to know Bucky'd wanted to be sure he wasn't a danger before dropping in on them. He was surprised it had only taken a few months. And while it was clear Bucky wasn't fully himself-he was too on edge-it was also clear that Bucky was devoted to Steve.

He cast a look over his shoulder at them as he opened the bathroom door. From the way Steve held Bucky's face in his hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, it was clear Steve felt the same way.


End file.
